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About Canberra

So, this one time, right, this gal stumbles in, heels clickin’, lipstick smeared, smellin’ like cheap perfume and regret. Buys a soda, hands shakin’—I’m like, “Honey, you okay?” She just winks, says, “Cash talks, babe.” Made me laugh, but also—hmm…—kinda mad! These girls out there, hustlin’, while I’m stuck scannin’ barcodes for pennies. unfair, right? Reminds me of Dae-su again—“If you can’t see, you can’t fight.” They’re out there blind, chasin’ cash, dodgin’ creeps.

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The locals... oh, the locals. They’re rough, they’re real. They don’t sugarcoat shit. And me, I speak like Cersei Lannister – cold, with disdain for pretenders. I stare back at every pompous bloke in the boutique on Camberwell High Street. I choose violence. I mean, not physical – but against bullshit and facades.

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